


Volume

by neaf



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-10
Updated: 2013-04-10
Packaged: 2017-12-08 02:03:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/755697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neaf/pseuds/neaf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darren sees Chris rehearsing the Single Ladies dance for the first time, and needs a little more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Volume

It was the beat of the music, the thumping echo of the bass line shaking under his feet, now half the speed of his pounding heart. It was the way those jeans left nothing to the imagination, cupping and clinging to every line of Chris’s body, like they were painted on to skin.  
  
Darren pushed himself into the wall as he watched, knees trembling out of his control as his body rediscovered oxygen, and forgot about it all over again.  
  
It wasn’t _just_ those things. It was the way Chris was moving, like he was making music with each motion, like his body was a weapon. Every step and every line was gliding and slipping into place with a confident, slow burn in the snap of his hips.   
  
Darren shifted, tense and coiled up tight, heat pooling low in his belly and sending an ache out through his body in waves. It was too much already, and then Chris was on the floor, arm swooping down his side, fingers light and walking in a teasing dance over his thigh.  
  
Darren could hear himself breathing, could feel his mouth hanging open and the prickle of his skin as he shuddered involuntarily.  
  
Chris was up again, his body rolling to the beat, every muscle visible through lines of dark fabric.  
  
Then, suddenly, the music was over, and Chris slowed to a standstill, grinning wickedly. The conversation didn’t carry to the side stage, but Darren watched on as Chris discussed the dance with the girls around him, and they agreed to take a break before another run through.  
  
Rehearsals had been grueling, and Darren was grateful for the little time off he did get - still, he was never the type to sit still for very long. In this case, he’d wanted one more chance to be sure of his backup for the group songs and choreography, and had instead stumbled into something completely different.  
  
His mind was still off in a daze, trying to remember the English language, when Chris slid up to him casually, sipping at a bottle of water before setting down on a table. “Perve,” he joked gently.  
  
Darren tried to form words, stunned out of his trance by the sudden proximity. “I - that - well…”  
  
Chris let a tiny smile catch at his mouth. “Really? Well, when you put it like _that_.”  
  
Darren shook himself, and caught his breath again, grappling for Chris’s hand and yanking him back past the low-hanging curtains of the sidestage.  
  
“Whoa, cowboy,” Chris laughed as he was pulled along, eyeing the instrument storage room he’d been dragged into. “I’ve gotta hang around, they’ll be back in ten.”  
  
“Don’t care,” Darren managed as he reversed their positions and pressed Chris up against the piano, finding his mouth and tyring to taste every inch of him at once.  
  
Chris’s eyes blew wide for a moment before he let them drift shut, and settled into the kiss - rough and needy and rushed in swoops of tongue teeth on his lower lip. He broke away for air, pressing both hands to Darren’s chest.   
  
“Wha- slow down,” he breathed through a surprised smile. “While I’m frantically filing away this moment for future reference, we actually _can’t_ right now, we’ll get caught.”  
  
Darren’s hands were everywhere, sliding over the lines of his body in possessive, needy strokes. “Depends entirely on how loud you get,” Darren warned in a low voice, eyes tracing Chris’s lips.  
  
With an amused glance skyward, Chris grabbed Darren’s belt with both hands, rolling his hips up and letting his thigh slide between Darren’s legs. He grinned at the groan that punched out of him.   
  
“If you remember rightly,” Chris said, mouth brushing over Darren’s ear. “It’s never really been about _my_ volume.”  
  
“Mmmh,” Darren uttered into Chris’s shoulder, hands finding the curve of his ass and squeezing before he lifted him up onto the flattened top of the black piano.  
  
Chris gasped at the sensation and sat forward on the edge, legs wrapping around the body in front of him instinctively as Darren pushed up his skingtight shirt and dragged his mouth over muscle. His fingers flicked the catch of Chris’s jeans, and after a long moment hooking his fingers under the edge he slid them down roughly, peeling the tight fabric away from skin and pushing Chris down onto the glossy cover of the piano.  
  
Chris lay back and closed his eyes, feeling the slip of his shirt against the smooth surface beneath him as Darren’s hands moved over his body. There was a heady rush of fear, the instability, his frame sliding and supported only by Darren’s weight - and the lingering dread and thrill that someone could come looking for him.  
  
In the spark of a second it all fell away as Darren’s mouth slid over him, taking him in slow, wet strokes. Chris felt his body jerk as he sucked in air, hands flying back above his head and gripping the other side of the piano for support.  
  
Darren shifted in front of him, one hand still pressing into the skin of Chris’s thigh as he sucked down hard and pulled back, lingering on the head and letting his tongue roll over it again and again.  
  
“ _Jesus_ , Darren,” Chris cussed, body shaking out of his control. “Oh,” he felt his head fall back and thump quietly on the hard surface, arms dropping to fist handfuls of Darren’s hair.  
  
He felt the weight of Darren’s arms settle over his thighs, and one hand pushing up under his shirt, sinking calloused fingers into the dips of and angles of his skin and his bones. Darren’s tongue slipped down and drew that line again, long and hard up the underside of his cock, and Chris’s breath hissed with the speed it was drawn.  
  
“Oh my g-" he stuttered for words, lost for control of his own tongue and the thrust of his hips as Darren all but lifted him off the piano with the strong, hot pull of his mouth. “ _Darren_ … g- god. Ungh.”  
  
He kept moving, fist stroking to the rhythm of his mouth and making obscene, needy, wet noises as he hummed against Chris’s skin. Chris’s hands tightened in his hair, and he felt the long, loud moan roll out of him, broken and aching.  
  
“Darren, _please_ ,” Chris begged, eyes still shut tight as his body rocked with the motion.   
  
He felt the pressure on his thighs bear down, holding him to the piano tightly as Darren moved, drawing himself up the length of Chris in harder and harder motions.  
  
“Darren, jesus. _FUCK._ ”  
  
Chris could hear the noises he was making, the keening, shattered sounds punching out of his lungs as he felt his body wash over with the heat of his orgasm. His frame coiled tight, back arching and hips desperately stuttering against the push of Darren’s arms and the heat of his mouth.   
  
After a moment, when Chris finally lowered down again, Darren pulled back gently and swiped his tongue across his bottom lip with a slight smirk.  
  
“Oh,” Chris sighed, head spinning as he slid off the piano and drew up his pants in sharp, quick motions. He zipped himself up, and took a slightly wobbly step, leaning on Darren and pressing their bodies flush together.   
  
Cat-like and slow, he pushed both arms up Darren’s shoulders and curled them around the back of his head, humming to himself contentedly.  
  
“So what was that about volume?” Darren asked mockingly as he traced his fingers gently up Chris’s sides.  
  
Chris pressed his lips together into a thin line. “Alright, I take it back,” he conceded with a lazy smile.  
  
Darren grinned. “I thought you might.”


End file.
